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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055019">visitation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordswillwasteyou/pseuds/timelordswillwasteyou'>timelordswillwasteyou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Durarara!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chronic Pain, Developing Relationship, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Menstruation, Trans Male Character, Trans Orihara Izaya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:28:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordswillwasteyou/pseuds/timelordswillwasteyou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When the doorbell rings, Izaya groans internally, then realizes he's still alone in his bedroom and groans aloud. He's been curled up miserably on his side for the past half hour or so--a quick glance at his phone's home screen confirms this, however much it feels like it's been hours--and the last thing he wants is to roll out of bed and from under the small comfort his heated blanket provides his aching midsection.</p><p>Or: Izaya's least favorite time of the month turns into something, maybe, not so terrible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>visitation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>You can probably guess what inspired this fic. That said, author is not trans, and I don't claim to represent what this kind of dysphoria must be like. I am writing only from my own personal struggles with endometriosis--including the parts about 'deserving' it--and wanted to play with the idea of trans Izaya. I have pretty much given up on trying to 'fix' my particular issue, but I was thinking about the many times I've had to describe what it feels like to others (doctors, parents, friends, gaslighters, etc.) and thought it might be healthy to try to write about it while also distancing myself from it a little and building a sort of fictional solidarity with trans Izaya. Hence, this fic. Take it for what it is, but if there are particular issues any trans readers have with how Izaya is portrayed, please, do let me know (if anyone actually reads this. lol. thank you, if you do.)</p><p>Edit: edited!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the doorbell rings, Izaya groans internally, then realizes he's still alone in his bedroom and groans aloud. He's been curled up miserably on his side for the past half hour or so--a quick glance at his phone's home screen confirms this, however much it feels like it's been hours--and the last thing he wants is to roll out of bed and from under the small comfort his heated blanket provides his aching midsection. </p><p>These times of the month are always the worst. He's known for years now the gender he was born with isn't the one he actually is, but his body never got the memo, and it still treats him to the intense lower abdominal pain that leaves him bedridden for at least a day or two every few weeks. Sometimes, when he's in this much pain and can't move beyond rolling to his other side every once in awhile, he thinks this must be his punishment for something--for his job and the suffering he's caused through it, maybe, or perhaps it's for the simpler reason that his mind and body don't match like everyone else's seem to.</p><p>Or maybe there's no reason for it at all besides faulty biology. That's somehow the worst possibility of all, since it means it's completely out of his control. </p><p>It's been long enough since the doorbell went off that he's settling back into a tentative sense of not-having-to-get-up, and of course that's when it goes off again. Izaya allows himself another groan, then closes his eyes and counts down from five, telling himself that the pain ebbs away a little with each count. It's not true, but the placebo effect is sometimes enough to get him off his feet long enough to grab a snack or water or a pain pill or three.</p><p>It works well enough now, and he drags himself to his feet to stride quickly towards the door. He has 2, maybe 3 minutes before he'll need to reset and lay down again, and it's with this in mind that he swings the door open before he can even think that maybe he should've checked the door camera first. </p><p>It turns out to not matter, because it's Shizuo he finds at his door, fist raised halfway to the door like he was readying himself to knock again. It should be surprising, and maybe it still is, but Izaya has a mental timer going for when he'll need to sit down again or risk passing out, so he just says, "Shizu-chan. What do you want?" </p><p>Shizuo blinks at him. It dawns on Izaya that maybe he sounded a little callous, especially given their recent, tenuous truce and the couple of stolen, spur of the moment kisses that accompanied it; Shizuo doesn't seem to be here to start a fight, and Izaya certainly has no interest in provoking him into one in his current state. But that still doesn't explain why Shizuo is here, on a Sunday evening, knocking on Izaya's door for no reason Izaya can think of. </p><p>Shizuo blinks again, then blushes. It would be interesting, would be provoking Izaya into teasing, if he couldn't feel his knees begin to shake with the pain lancing through his body from his midsection. Izaya is just formulating an excuse to retreat back into the relative comfort of his bed, the words on the tip of his tongue, when Shizuo finally speaks. </p><p>"I... I just wanted to see if you were busy." His eyes flick over Izaya's shoulder, as if checking for a web page or a notebook left open in indication of work being done; finding none, he looks back at Izaya. There's a strange intensity to his gaze, as if there's a different meaning behind the words he's spoken. "Are you?" </p><p>It's the perfect excuse, and it would be easy for Izaya to agree with Shizuo's implication that he's working, but his heart is skipping a little at the prospect of Shizuo coming here just to see him, and he finds himself sighing even as the pain intensifies. He keeps a straight face--he has years of practice--and opens the door further to invite the blonde man inside. </p><p>Shizuo is biting his lip, once Izaya turns from shutting and bolting the door to look at him again; he's nervous, and Izaya curses the menstrual gods that this is his current state, because any other day he'd have already given in and kissed that reddened mouth by now. But his body is confirming what his mental timer has already told him, and he needs a few minutes to reset; after that, he's not sure what will happen, with Shizuo hovering around his space now, but one step at a time, he supposes. </p><p>"I'll put on tea," he finds himself offering, and goes to do just that. He has to grab onto the counter more than a couple times to keep himself from doubling over in pain, but he hopes Shizuo is too nervous to notice. Having put the kettle on to heat, he looks down at his casual sleep clothing, and finds another excuse easily. "Give me a moment to change into something more presentable and I'll be right out to entertain you, Shizu-chan." </p><p>Shizuo's gaze flicks back to him from where it had been halfheartedly taking in the spacious apartment. He follows Izaya's movements as he makes toward his bedroom, then seems to process what Izaya said and mumbles, "You're fine as you are." </p><p>Izaya blinks at him again. Shizuo blushes again. Izaya notices, somehow for the first time, that the taller man isn't wearing his usual black and white uniform, and the deep maroon button down and dark gray slacks he's wearing in its place accentuate his forearms and thighs in a way that makes Izaya swallow around fledgling arousal and momentarily forget the reason for his movements away from its source.</p><p>Then another pang of protest from his abdomen snaps him out of it. “Even so,” he manages around the conflicting physical feelings mixing in his gut. “I’d prefer not to be overshadowed by your choice of attire.” He starts backing away again, sticking around only long enough to see Shizuo’s blush deepen, and it’s enough to make him turn and fully commit himself to moving toward his room if only to escape any other consequences of the implied compliment he’s just given.</p><p>In his room, he collapses back on the bed and quickly pulls the still-on heating blanket back onto his lower stomach, whimpering a little in the not-nearly-enough relief of the warmth on his aching muscles. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, wondering why in the hell he didn’t turn his unexpected visitor away. He isn’t going to be able to actually entertain Shizuo, as he promised; he may not even be able to leave this room again. </p><p>He rolls over onto his side to face the alarm clock on the side of his bed, trying to decide what is an acceptable amount of time for him to lay here before Shizuo comes looking. He can’t have that; whatever they are tenuously building toward, between the lull in their traditional fights and the pair of shared kisses that had filled his whole body with terrifying warmth, they are nowhere near the point he’d be comfortable with Shizuo seeing him this way. He wouldn’t even be able to explain it. To his knowledge, Shizuo doesn’t even know of the disparity between his pronouns and his body, and Izaya would like to taste Shizuo’s lips at least a couple more times before the reality of Izaya’s situation inevitably drives him away. As if in agreement, his belly gives a painful throb, and he curls further into his blanket, not even caring that his shirt is so thin it’s beginning to feel too-hot on his skin.</p><p>A soft knock on his bedroom door startles him out of his fetal position, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have enough time to pull himself into some facade of normalcy because Shizuo is slipping into his space with a soft, questioning, “Izaya?”</p><p>Izaya sits up quickly, trying to muster a glare at the intruder, but when his eyes meet Shizuo’s he finds himself falling short of anger. “Izaya,” Shizuo says again, worrying at his lip as he glances at the blanket, its stark white out of place against the black of Izaya’s other sheets, before looking back at Izaya’s face. His eyes are searching as he asks, “Are you alright?”</p><p>Izaya tries on a smirk, hoping the darkness of the room mutes its falseness. “Of course I’m alright, Shizu-chan.” He even starts to get up to prove it; he needs to demonstrate so Shizuo will leave, so Shizuo won’t see him struggle. “I was just changing, like I told--” and his body gives way a little, his hand catching himself at the edge of the bed but his abdomen protesting his movements even more strongly than before, and he can’t help a soft groan.</p><p>To his horror, Shizuo is at his side in a second. “Lay down, Izaya, c’mon,” he mutters, and Izaya wants to protest being babied like this but his body is protesting more; he has little choice but to obey. Shizuo’s hands are firm but gentle against his back as he guides Izaya down, pulling the blanket with him.</p><p>“This really isn’t necessary, Shizuo,” Izaya mumbles, not realizing he’s let the nickname slip until it’s too late. “I’ll be alright in a moment, just--”</p><p>“Izaya,” a low voice interrupts. It rumbles through him, and for a wild moment, Izaya almost thinks it’s helped eased the pains of his traitorous body. “It’s okay. Let me help. I want to help.” He fidgets with the blanket for another moment, tucking one side under Izaya’s arm, before he seems to catch himself and look back at Izaya’s face instead.</p><p>Izaya hates this. Shizuo was never meant to see him like this. He feels like crying, but that would only serve to horrify him further, so he turns his face away from Shizuo’s calculating (but somehow, somehow not judgmental) gaze. “You don’t have to do anything, Shizu-chan,” he mumbles into the pillow, staring at his closet door and willing the other man to leave. Anything but him being here. “Just--I can’t entertain you today, so there’s no reason for you to stay.”</p><p>Shizuo is silent for long moments. Izaya keeps his gaze fixed resolutely to his side. His body is throbbing all over, now, in protest for him having walked across his home and back; and now he’s gone and ruined whatever budding Thing he might have had with Shizuo, all because of his stupid body that never listens to him.</p><p>His thoughts are interrupted by the kettle whistling from the kitchen. He’s focusing so hard on dissociating from the current situation that the sound makes him jump a little, makes his gaze flicker against his will back to Shizuo.</p><p>Shizuo is looking at him, but with nothing in his gaze that Izaya expected. He looks unsure, looks like he wants to reach out but isn’t sure if he’d be refused. But most of all, he looks concerned, like he would rather reach out and grab and crush Izaya’s pain like it’s a piece of Ikebukero sidewalk than have Izaya keep feeling it. When he notices Izaya looking back at him, though, he stands and turns and, without a word, leaves the room.</p><p>Izaya’s eyes flutter shut. Shizuo’s leaving. He got what he wanted, what he needed. He feels emptier than ever, the heated blanket not even seeming to dull the pain at all anymore, but at least he can suffer through his weakness alone, now.</p><p>He’s so surprised when Shizuo returns a few minutes later, with a mug of tea in each hand, that he startles again, knocking the heated blanket askew. Shizuo gives him a small, reassuring smile, and places the mugs down next to Izaya’s alarm clock. Izaya stares at the mugs, wondering if he’s dreaming all this, hand coming to press down on his abdomen to see if it’s still throbbing in wakefulness. Distantly, he notices that one of the mugs, the one closest to him, is steeping with the raspberry leaf tea he usually makes for situations like this every month; how Shizuo knew to make that particular brew, Izaya has no idea.</p><p>He doesn’t have time to think about that, or even to shoo Shizuo away again, because the larger man makes his way to the opposite side of the bed before climbing in next to Izaya.</p><p>Izaya’s eyes go wide as Shizuo reaches out to readjust the blanket, situating it right where Izaya needs it most. The gentle weight of his hand over Izaya’s aching lower belly feels as wonderful as anything can feel to him right now. He watches Shizuo’s face in confusion and hesitation, waiting for him to lash out or make fun or any other number of things he could do.</p><p>He does none of them. Instead, he meets Izaya’s gaze and lifts a hand to brush his sweaty bangs out of his face with a calloused thumb. “Izaya,” he says softly, and Izaya has never known him to be this gentle. “Can I stay?”</p><p>Izaya swallows, eyes searching Shizuo’s for any sign he is being had. He watches for several moments, and when there is none, he gives a tiny nod, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Why Shizuo would want to stay, he has no idea, but if that’s what he wants Izaya isn’t going to refuse the offer, not when Shizuo’s deep voice and soothing touch is doing wonders for his worn out body and mind.</p><p>Shizuo smiles in response, and reaches out to hold Izaya close. Izaya doesn’t resist, but he closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see any changes of heart play out across Shizuo’s face. Worst case scenario, the other man will simply leave, and Izaya can pretend not to know the reason.</p><p>Minutes pass. Shizuo doesn’t leave. He’s still stroking at Izaya’s hair, and if Izaya wasn’t still in a lot of pain he’d probably fall asleep from the soothing motions. Instead, he reaches toward his other side for his tea. It’s the perfect temperature, and he gratefully gulps down a few sips of it before resting his head back and hoping the herbs in it will work their magic soon.</p><p>After another indeterminate amount of time, Shizuo speaks again, a soft murmur of his name. “Izaya,” he says nearly against Izaya’s neck, where his shirt has been pulled aside from his miserable tossing and turning and where he can now feel Shizuo’s warm breath gust out as he forms the syllables of Izaya’s name. “Does this... it happens every time?”</p><p>Izaya turns his head into Shizuo’s warmth, lips brushing the top of those golden curls as he nods; then, realizing Shizuo can’t see him, he mutters, “Yeah.”</p><p>Shizuo’s hand over Izaya’s midsection tenses a little, like the admission troubles him, then relaxes again as he raises his eyes to meet Izaya’s again. He’s frowning, his gaze searching as he says, “You should tell me.” He raises the hand on Izaya’s stomach to his face, long fingers tracing his jawline; Izaya manages not to close his eyes at the soothing touch, but it’s a close thing. “I can come over and help.” Izaya shudders under the intensity of his gaze before Shizuo seems to catch himself and amend, “If you want, that is. I-If you want me to.” His hand drops to Izaya’s collar, and his eyes dip to follow it, his shift in body language radiating uncertainty and hope.</p><p>Izaya’s eyes widen, his cheeks color. He didn’t expect Shizuo to offer a repeat performance, much less for him to seem to enjoy Izaya’s presence the same way Izaya is enjoying his. But Shizuo’s reaction leaves no doubt of the honesty of his statement, and Izaya finds his own hand coming up to Shizuo’s face to bring their gazes together again.</p><p>“I want you to,” he admits, then pulls Shizuo’s face in for a kiss. His own lips are a little chapped, he knows, moistened only by the slight sheen of sweat that has resulted from prolonged use of his hot blanket; but Shizuo doesn’t seem to mind, only whimpers and presses harder into the kiss, his own hand coming up to hold Izaya’s at his neck.</p><p>Izaya’s abdomen is still throbbing consistently, the blanket is still a little too hot, and he’s still frustrated with his body; but in Shizuo’s arms, he almost feels for the first time like maybe his monthly cycle isn’t the worst thing, not if it means Shizuo will be with him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hate the title but ran out of energy, as usual. Comments and kudos are, as always, very appreciated.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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